A week later, I found myself standing in the lamplight of Sullivan's office, patiently waiting as he bound my breasts. The red rope circled both my tits and snaked over my shoulders, where he tied it at the back. It surprised me, how skilled my boss was with this sort of bondage. Had he practiced typing up his wife? I wondered. Did she have a kinky side as well?

Once he was finished, we looked down to inspect his handiwork. The rope, though snug, didn't cause me as much discomfort as the nipple clamps had. And I had to admit it accentuated my breasts in a striking way. 

Sullivan gave the rope a cursory tug, then nodded. "I could spend forever looking at you like this."

I knew it was solely my tits that attracted him to me, yet I couldn't help but smile. It felt exhilarating to hold such power over this man, if only for a brief time. 

He stroked my breasts, his fingertips delivering currents of pleasure straight to my core. Tonight, I'd worn a prim blouse, which I'd removed almost immediately upon arriving, along with a flowing wine-colored skirt. Beneath it, I had on thigh-high stockings and nothing else. I had to hide my grin at the thought of Sullivan discovering me without panties. 

My boss lingered over my nipples, nuzzling and sucking them. By this point, I made no effort to suppress my moans; if anything, they were louder than ever. I'd grown comfortable giving voice to my lust while being half-naked in this office. Just as Sullivan had promised, no one from the custodial staff had interrupted us during these furtive, late-night sessions.

When he now lifted his head, I easily discerned the arousal in his gaze. Still, he took a step back from me. A glance at his groin let me know just how hard he was. I watched as he moved to turn off the lamp. Instantly, the room was shrouded in deep shadow. "What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

Instead of answering, he strode toward one of the windows and raised the blinds. Letting out a startled squeal, I turned away from that view of the city I'd always admired. 

"Relax, Aurora. No one can see you in here."

I heard the smile in his voice. Though I knew he was right, I still hesitated, working up the nerve to face him again. When I did, my stare moved past his silhouetted form to a large office building across the way. Several of its windows were illuminated. 

Sullivan held out a hand. "Come here."

Wordlessly, I did as he said. All the while, my heart knocked around frantically in my chest, for I'd never felt so exposed.

Grasping my shoulders, Sullivan positioned me in front of him. A streetlight's gleam fell upon my naked breasts. Standing behind me, he fondled my tits. "Do you know how much you excite me?"

Before I could answer, he gave my left nipple a hard pinch. The ensuing throb traveled down my belly to settle between my thighs. I offered no resistance when he moved me closer to the window. In an instant, my nipples were mashed against the glass, and I gasped at the shocking cold. It was impossible to suppress a shiver.

"Stay just like that," he urged in a low voice. 

With my tits flattened against the windowpane, I felt pinned, totally at Sullivan's mercy. In a tug-of-war between lust and humiliation, I soon discovered that I liked being his plaything. 

Slipping his arms around me, my boss held me close. I basked in his warmth, and in the feel of his insistent erection prodding me. My eyes widened as he gave my neck a hot, open-mouthed kiss. We were both breathing faster, our excitement like a contagion passing between us. Staring out at the city, I tried to control my shaking.

Impatiently, Sullivan began yanking up my skirt. Of course, he couldn't know I was practically naked beneath it. 

"Wait!" I cried. Yet I didn't struggle in his embrace. He stopped short of revealing my pussy, and I relaxed while he slid his palms along the thigh-high stockings. 

"Ooh, these are nice." His fingers inched higher, and when they brushed against my bare outer lips, a surprised laugh escaped him. "What a bad girl you are, showing up here with no panties!"

His touch made me practically melt. All week, I'd been dying for this man to play with my pussy. Naked beneath my skirt, I'd invited it tonight. Now that it was happening, I could barely control myself.

So when Sullivan gathered my skirt in his left fist and drew it upward with a flourish, I made no protest at all. Cold emanated from the windowpane like an icy caress seeking out my sex. 

"I just want to make you feel good, Aurora." His teeth grazed the side of my neck as his fingers parted my plump outer labia. The chilly air wafted against my inner folds, serving to heighten both my vulnerability and my need.

Leaving me exposed, he took his time exploring my pussy. "So wet for me..." His breath was hot on my neck, an exquisite contrast to the cold seeping into my skin. Finally, he began circling my clit with a fingertip. 

Biting my lip, I tried to contain my abject longing, but it took little effort for him to demolish my pride. "Please! Make me come!" I begged.

Sullivan nuzzled me, his mouth seeking out my earlobe. I gasped at the bite he delivered. Yet immediately afterward, he suckled gently, just as he always did to my nipples. 

The moment I again relaxed, he started massaging my clit. I was so ready, so desperate for his touch, that I couldn't muffle a plaintive wail.

Releasing my skirt, Sullivan cupped a hand over my mouth. "Shh. If you want to come, you'll need to be a good girl and control yourself."

I readily nodded, willing to do anything if only he would keep rubbing my sensitive pearl. It throbbed beneath his fingers, and I imagined my flesh swelling even more. 

The man knew just what to do in order to reduce me to a writhing, whimpering mess. He was careful not to apply too much pressure, too fast. I moaned, the sound muted by his palm, and I heard his pleased laugh when my hips started their predictable movement. I worked to grind my ass against his erection, which prompted him to release his own pleasured groan.

All the while, his fingers worked their magic between my thighs. I shook as if freezing, but I no longer felt the cold. The way he caressed that tiny area where my clit peeked out from my hood made my eyes roll. I was thankful for his hand over my mouth, and for his strong body behind me. 

His touch grew more insistent, merciless in its effort to make me orgasm. The sensation became almost excruciating; I wanted nothing more than to topple over that edge upon which I was so precariously balanced.

It felt like I was suspended there in front of that window for an eternity, but it was only minutes until I surrendered to my climax. The bliss spilled over me in a warm wave, and as I quaked and tried to scream, Sullivan urged me on, whispering, "That's it, come for me, sweetheart!"

He managed to wring every drop of pleasure from my body, and even after my quivering subsided, he held me to him. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and wished we could stay like that, if not forever, then for a few minutes more.

But Sullivan slowly released me. When he stepped away, I instantly missed his warmth. Turning toward him, I found that the shadows couldn't hide his pensive expression. He looked like a man who felt he'd gone too far, and not far enough.

Still bound by the rope, I pressed my hands against his chest and backed him up to his desk. Neither of us spoke as I sank to my knees and unbuckled his belt, but I heard his breathing quicken.

In moments, I had his pants and underwear lowered. His cock was fully hard, straining out toward me. I gave the tip a playful lick, which drew another groan from his lips. Taking him in my hand, I angled his dick upward so I could slide my tongue over his smooth sac and then along the underside of his shaft.

"Ah, fuck!" His voice was guttural, thick with need. Yet he didn't touch me. 

When my tongue reached his frenulum, I wrapped my lips around his cockhead. My own moans sounded slutty and overeager, but they weren't at all forced. In the darkness of that office, I delighted in Sullivan's taste and scent. While suckling his tip, I gently cupped his heavy balls. I heard him sigh as he moved to stroke my hair. 

Growing bolder, I slid my lips farther down his length until his tip invaded my throat. His gasp let me know I'd succeeded in surprising him.

As a result of my gag reflex kicking in, my mouth flooded with saliva. I pulled off long enough to spit into my palm so I could use the fluid as lubrication when I resumed stroking him. With my mouth and both hands, I gave every inch ample stimulation.

Soon, I'd worked up to a rhythm he clearly loved, for he was breathing hard and fast, his dick swelling even more between my lips. "I'm close," he warned.

When I again pulled off, I wondered if I was only imagining Sullivan's disappointment. But I'd stopped merely to fill my lungs with air. Tilting my head back, I flashed a wicked grin. In the shadows, I could discern the helpless pleading in his expression. And since I lacked his skill for drawing out a lover's torment, I returned to giving him what he most craved.

A sound between a gag and a gulp emerged from my throat as I took him deep again. Rotating my wrist, I stroked the lower part of his shaft. With my other hand, I again cupped his balls. They were nice and tight; I had him right on edge!

He released a low growl, quiet but fierce, just before letting go. His cock pulsed in my mouth, and hot cum struck the back of my throat. I readily swallowed his seed, ignoring the dull ache which my efforts at deepthroating had brought about. 

Finally, I had to take another breath. When I sat back, a strand of my spit stretched between my lower lip and Sullivan's cockhead. Smiling, I wiped my mouth, then leaned forward to lick him clean. 

"Christ, you made me come so hard!" He caressed my cheek with the pad of his thumb, and that tender touch encouraged me to nestle against his hand. "Thank you, Aurora," he whispered.

After helping me to my feet, Sullivan planted a kiss on my forehead. I watched as he went to lower the window blinds and turn on the lamp. While studying him, I tried to gauge his mood. He seemed relaxed, even happy. 

But not willing to go further.

I retrieved my blouse and put it on. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sullivan grab his phone from the desk.

"You did quite a bit extra tonight," he said, "so you're getting paid quite a bit extra."

I gave him a sharp look. "Don't."

He met my stare, his brow furrowed. "Don't what?"

"I didn't suck you off for money." My face burned with sudden shame. "I did it because I wanted to."

His gaze softened. "So it was a gift."

I pondered his words for a few seconds. "Well, yeah, if you want to think of it that way."

"Then consider this a gift." And with that, he made a payment to my account. Only later would I check the balance and find that it had increased by a thousand dollars.

In the following weeks, Sullivan and I continued to meet, but I noticed a subtle change in his demeanor. Though he was as sexy and tantalizing as ever, there was now something a bit guarded about him, too. As for me, I couldn't deny my disappointment that the night he'd made me come with his fingers, and I'd made him come with my mouth, wouldn't be repeated.

Yet I managed to hide that disappointment in our subsequent meetings, during which I invited him to return his focus primarily to my tits. One evening in early December, I sat on his lap, my nipples half-numb from the ice cubes he'd swirled over them. When the ice had melted and trickled down my belly, I'd begun shivering, so Sullivan draped his suit coat over my shoulders. Then he placed a smaller cube in his mouth and suckled my right nipple. The delicious contrast between his warm mouth and the ice sent a needy shudder through my body.

I could feel his erection through his pants, but he seemed in no hurry to jerk off tonight. Instead, he sat back and gazed at my breasts. My nipples were painfully stiff from the cold. I watched as he removed his wedding band, then brought it to my left nipple. My confusion only grew when he pulled my flesh through the ring until the gold encircled it.

Staring down at his ring adorning my nipple, I started to protest. It felt wrong. More than that, it felt like a reminder of what could never be. 

But he spoke first. "Give me your ring."

I wore a cheap band with a floral motif; I doubted it was sterling beneath the gold plating. Sullivan seemed happy enough with my offering, for he pulled my right nipple through it. Now, both peaks were distended and thrust out toward him. 

"Ah, that's lovely," he murmured. I had to smile at the way he so easily entertained himself with my tits. Meeting my eyes again, he went on in that same quiet tone. "You know, the company Christmas party is coming up."

I tried not to grimace as I remembered last year's party, the first I'd attended. It was held in the ballroom of a fancy hotel. I'd felt completely out of place, counting the minutes until I was able to make my exit. 

"I'm aware," I said to Sullivan now.

He cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "My wife will be there this time. She couldn't make it last year."

The smile felt tight on my face. "I look forward to meeting her."

"I've never cheated on her," he suddenly blurted out. His voice was plaintive, as though he longed for absolution. "I've been to my share of strip clubs, and I've paid the women with the biggest tits to sit on my lap. But it never went any further."

I didn't want to hear this. It felt like a confession I shouldn't be privy to, seeing as how I was part of his sin. "I understand." 

Sullivan tilted his head back, searching my face. "What I'm trying to say is, there's never been anyone like you in my life, Aurora. I've never needed this so much."

Once more, I felt that familiar ache of yearning in my chest. Yet I shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant. "It's still not cheating," I told him. I worried if I didn't ease his guilt, he might stop this altogether. "You're still paying for a service, like you would at a strip club."

I thought he actually flinched at that, but the expression came and went so quickly, I couldn't be sure. I found myself leaning forward, desperately hoping he would refute me, that he would tell me I meant far more to him than that.

Instead, Sullivan took hold of his ring. A gentle tug, and my nipple popped free of it. After returning it to his finger, he removed my ring as well. I let him take my hand and slide the band onto my left ring finger, though I'd been wearing it on my right. 

"I'm glad you're okay with what we're doing." He smiled up at me. "And I hope you'll forgive me for being foolish."

I wanted to grab him and beg him to continue his foolishness; I wanted to issue thousands of apologies for dismissing what he'd shared. 

But I couldn't. Because the man clearly loved his wife, and the moment he considered our relationship a betrayal of her, we would be through.